Merciless Fate
by LamiaDisgrace
Summary: Harry's life just keeps getting worse. I suck at summaries. Just read the first chapter to see if it interests you. WARNING- Abuse, graphic violence, will eventually be HP/DM
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Unsuspecting Wall

Another year over. Another death brought on by his actions. Harry should've known by now that fate would never allow him the carefree existence his loving Godfather had offered. Regardless of what he should've known, it wasn't only Sirius who had perished that night in the Department of Mysteries, along with him went Harry's last bit of optimism that this world could be anything but pain, death, and deceit. 

'_The Savior of the Wizarding World...'_ he thought to himself and laughed in cruel irony as he stared at the blank walls of his cramped room. '_How can I be expected to save something so vast when I can't even protect my own family?'_

Thoughts of this sort continued to fill his mind well into the night until he finally fell into a dreamless sleep. 

The next morning he awoke to a livid, irate Vernon Dursley kicking his bed post in a 'kind' attempt at waking him. 

"Boy!" he shouted only inches from his face, "Are you mad or just daft!" 

Harry stared, feeling the question would be answered for him. Apparently he was wrong. Vernon slapped him hard across the face, "Answer the question you freak! Or do you have a death wish?" 

In a flat voice, Harry replied, "I'm sorry Uncle; perhaps you could tell me what I've done so I can better answer your question?"

"Are you being smart with me boy!" Vernon yelled then grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt and pulled him off of the bed, throwing him to the floor. He then proceeded to kick Harry hard in the stomach. As he gasped for air, Vernon yelled, 

"You want to know what you did!" He had a gleam in his eye, "The trash was not taken out."

He kicked Harry again.

"The dishes not washed."

Again.

"The breakfast not made."

Another kick.

"And," He dragged Harry to his feet and pulled him out into the hallway where he then slammed his face hard against the wall, Harry could feel his eye bruising.

"See anything odd here Potter?" Harry looked, "Do you!" Each sentence was accentuated by Harry's head being slammed against the wall again. He thought he heard something break. 

It was then that Harry noticed the fist sized hole in the plaster of the wall. He had almost forgotten. He was so angry at life and everything in it that he had taken his anger out on the poor unsuspecting wall.

"Well!" Vernon shook him, " What do you have to say for yourself!"

"I'm sorry." Harry said, and he meant it, though more to the wall than anything. He imagined, he could relate to it. Standing there, solemn in its strength, watching everyone else live their lives, viewing indignities it could do nothing about and then suddenly it was attacked, without warning, leaving a physical and metaphorical hole. Yes, Harry could relate to the wall and for that he was sorry.

"You're damn right you're sorry! But not as sorry as you're soon going to be." Vernon was purple, Harry noted, that was never a good sign. "Fix it. Then I'll decide your punishment." He released his death grip on Harry's neck.

Harry, now hunched over and puffy faced nodded, "Yes sir." 

He knew that 'light' beating would do nothing to abate his Uncle's anger. Of course not. Anything else could be considered merciful, and fate wouldn't allow that would she? 

He patched up the wall in a sort of apology to his new found kin. He wondered if making an emotional link between himself and a wall was really the healthiest thing for him to do, then he figured, why not? It's not as if he had anyone else to confide in anyways. Owls had stopped bringing him letters of his friends and their lives, after his third attempt at contact ended in ever present silence, he decided to give up. He was almost sad when he finished his task. He liked having a purpose and he knew that now he would be completely at the mercy of Vernon Dursley, and Harry knew from experience, that was no mercy at all. 

He walked slowly down the stairs and into the kitchen, silently coming to stand in front of his 'guardian'. Vernon seemed to study him for a moment, the look of utter detestation never leaving his face; he took in the appearance of the burden of a boy in front of him. His eyes viewed his handy work, from the bruises on his arms, to his black eye, to the still bleeding cut on his lip. Yes, Vernon had given that freak everything he had deserved all summer. Though, he was almost disappointed. The parasite would be returning to his school in a few days. He couldn't let Harry go without at least one more punishment.

"Done Boy?" Vernon squinted his beady eyes.

"Yes Uncle." Harry replied, sensing the calm before the storm.

"Show me."

Harry led Vernon up the stairs to the patched up wall. Harry wouldn't have even known there had been a hole if he hadn't fixed it himself. Vernon was displeased.

"You call that fixed! I can still bloody see the difference!" he yelled.

"I did the best I could." Harry replied monotone. 

"Well then I guess this is just another instance where your best wasn't good enough." Vernon hissed, his face turning purple once more. "I think it's time you pay for what you've done." A malicious smile played on his pudgy face. 

Harry stared emotionlessly. "Yes Uncle." 

"On your knees you pathetic freak." Vernon commanded.

Harry knew what was coming; it was something he had grown used to, the reason for the criss-crossing of scars on his back. Vernon went to the hall closet and pulled from it a heavy leather belt. Harry kneeled, his back to his uncle and shirt pulled up. 

"Thirty lashes ought to teach you some respect." Vernon growled. 

Harry prepared himself for the blow but could never really get used to the pain. When the belt struck him he winced but never made a sound. Even as the metal buckle bruised his spine and left bleeding gashes, he never cried out. It was one of the only things he had to be proud of these days. This had been going on all summer yet he never sent for help. A part of him felt that no one would care, after all, Dumbledore was a smart wizard, and he had to know what was taking place. Another part of him felt that he deserved this. For all the pain he had caused and the lives he had lost. The faces of his parents, Sirius and Cedric Diggory circled his head in a sad sort of mobile. Suddenly the whipping stopped and Harry felt himself being kicked very hard in the back of the head. Too hard, he was losing consciousness. 

"Get up." Vernon said sternly, but Harry couldn't. He was on the verge of passing out from blood loss, pain and a concussion. 

"Get up!" His uncle yelled again, this time kicking Harry in the side.

Harry lay still on the ground, unable to lift himself but squirming to try. 

"..I can't..." He said as loudly as he could which turned out to only be a strangled whisper which erupted into a coughing fit. 

Vernon knelt down to his pathetic nephew and punched him full force in the face. Harry felt his nose break and blood started pouring down his face in large quantities. 

"You good for nothing piece of filth! I'll make you stand!" Vernon then lifted Harry by the front of his shirt and threw him down the stairs. Harry lost consciousness then and was glad he did.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

When Harry awoke he had no idea how much time had passed, all he knew was that his body was pulsing with pain, he was soaking wet and in the backyard. How he got there he couldn't be sure but he thought it probably had something to do with Vernon or Petunia not wanting blood on their lovely carpet. Dudley was at a summer camp for the 'Privileged Children of Surrey'. One of the only breaks fate had given him all summer. 

He felt incredibly hot but realized that the night sky was pouring rain. Harry knew he needed to get out of the weather but as soon as he tried to move he realized that both his right leg and left arm had been dislocated. '_Probably from the stairs_' he groaned to himself. The pain was too much for him to fathom at the moment so he simply laid back and forced himself to sleep. 

When Harry was thrown into consciousness again the sun was shining and the birds singing merrily. The day seemed to be mocking his pain. He decided it was time to get to his room or at least inside. He rolled with much effort to his right side and lifting himself with his right arm used the force of the ground to shove his joint back into its socket. He bit his lip hard to keep from screaming. He lay there for a few seconds, letting the sensation of pain pass by then used his good arm to lift himself to his feet. He slowly walked to the back door, cringing with every step. Standing in the open doorway he contemplated what he was about to do. To keep from biting through his already torn and bleeding lip he put a kitchen cloth in his mouth. He then slammed his left arm as hard as he could into the door frame, knocking the bone back into place with a hideous sound. Harry looked around, tears threatening to come out, only to realize that he was alone in the house. He wandered through the kitchen in a sort of daze until he came upon a hastily scribbled note left on the table, it read,

'_We've gone to visit Dudley for a week._

_Don't break anything and take the trash out!'_

Harry was glad to finally be rid of them. At least he could have the next few days to himself. He glanced at the calendar; his birthday was coming up, as was his first day of the new term. He thought of his friends and wondered how their holiday was going. Pondering these thoughts, he walked straight to his room and found his stashed bottle of Skele-grow for his nose. Seamus had given it to him as a gag gift last Christmas, saying he always seemed to wind up in the infirmary. They all laughed but Seamus hadn't known that Harry would actually need it and use it quite constantly. 

After drinking the vile liquid and already feeling its effects starting to take place, he decided on a shower to rid himself of the dried blood and mud mixture. As he stood in the steaming waterfall he felt his back sear with pain as the water cascaded upon his fresh wounds.

_'Do I deserve this?'_ He thought to himself.

'_Is this really all I'm meant for?'_

He sat under the falling water, hugging his bony knees to his bony chest and wondered if things would ever change.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Platform 93/4. The gateway to Harry's temporary salvation known as Hogwarts. He didn't know what he would've done without Hogwarts. Without his friends and the closest to a family he had ever really had. Maybe he would've lost his mind; maybe he would've been killed. He considered himself lucky to have it. 

As he waited for the train to arrive he watched all the happy families and their frolicking children in a hollow sort of fascination. He decided at that moment that he had to do whatever it would take to save them. He had to save them all. He also knew that he would probably lose his life in the process but, at that moment, it really didn't bother him at all. At least he would help someone. 

Harry was then, quite literally, knocked out of his reverie by what appeared to be a large mass of hair hugging him intensely. He tried not to wince as the Gryffindor girl squeezed his bruised ribs and brushed against his cuts.

"Harry!" she exclaimed joyously, "How are you? How was your summer!" 

She was so excited, he couldn't help but smile back, and even considering the dark thoughts he had just been having.

"Brilliant 'Mione, how was yours?" He happily lied to his friend. She already worried about him enough as it was, she didn't need another reason. 

"Wonderful! My parents and I vacationed in Rome! Do you have any idea how much history there is there? It was absolutely fascinating!" 

Harry laughed at his friend's enthusiasm and smiled as Ron suddenly appeared behind her. 

"You're here for two minutes and already talking about history? Definitely Hermione." 

Hermione blushed and gave him a stern look. Ron's grin got even bigger and Harry's almost matched.

"'Ello mate." Said the red head.

"Hey Ron, good to see you. How was your holiday?"

The three friends continued their pleasantries and conversation all the way on to the train. When seated in their very own compartment and enjoying the comfortable silence and warm atmosphere, Hermione tentatively broke it. 

"Um…Harry? I've been meaning to ask you..." 

"If this is about Sirius I really don't want to talk about it right now alright?" Harry interrupted.

"Well then tell me how you got that bruise around your eye...or that cut on your lip..?" She continued.

'_Shite'_ Harry thought, '_I forgot to use the glamour.'_

Ron looked like he was trying to conceal his fear of Harry's answer. He couldn't let them know the torment he endured every summer so he did what any good friend would do. He lied. 

"I fell out of a tree." Sensing his friends wanted more of an answer he continued, "I was climbing the big tree in the back yard and I slipped and fell out of it. That's all. Don't worry." He gave them a slight smile. "You know I'm a klutz, is it really that hard to believe?" he laughed quietly.

"No…I guess not." Hermione replied, "Just know that you can tell us anything Harry, Anything at all." 

"I know Hermione, thank you."

Ron accepted his answer as truth. After all, why would his best mate lie to him? Hermione looked a bit more skeptical but Harry changed the conversation to Quidditch before she could ask anymore questions. Soon Ron and Harry were immersed in conversation of all the games Harry had missed over the summer. He was way out of the loop on that.

After about an hour of conversation Hermione stood and flattened out her robes. 

"Ron and I have a prefect meeting to go to Harry, are you going to be alright here?" She asked concerned.

"Yes Mum, I think I'll manage." He smiled warmly at Hermione. She threw her arms up in the air and left. Ron, after flashing a giant grin in Harry's direction did the same.

Harry stared out the window of the compartment. Watching the scenery pass by he thought of many things, life, death, Voldemort, Sirius, His friends and wondering if he could keep them alive or if it would be better to push them away. He knew that if they continued to stay with him and fight by his side that they would probably die as well. Harry didn't think he could take it if they died because of him, but he also knew that their damn Gryffindor loyalty would keep them bound by his side until the very end...how ever soon that may be. Knowing that they cared so much for him brought a slight smile to his face. One that was immediately crushed by the entrance of a certain blonde Slytherin and his two cronies. 

Harry looked towards the sound of the compartment door sliding open and his face became cold, void of any emotion. Malfoy Jr. just reminded him of the Malfoy Sr. it filled him with cold hatred. 

"Leave." Harry simply said in a monotone voice laced with hatred. 

Malfoy had no intention of leaving.

"I hear your dog died Potter. How tragic. I also hear that it was my loving aunt Bella who did it and that it was all your fault. Did you cry when little fluffy died?" Crabbe and Goyle laughed like the brainless oafs they were and Malfoy stood smug. A small trademark smirk on his face. 

Harry was furious but this wasn't the place for a fight and he was in no condition to win so he translated his fury into words.

"Oh you heard about that? Yeah, I did cry a bit, thanks for your concern. By the way, while were sharing, I heard your sick, twisted, bastard of a father was put into Azkaban for being a murderous psychopath. How do you think he'll taste to the dementors Malfoy? Like candy? Do you think he'll die quick? I've heard it's a long and painful process. I hope that's true." Harry had heard the news earlier from Ron who was very happy about the whole thing. Harry himself had felt a sense of justice. 

Malfoy was fuming. His pale pallor was flushed with the red tinge of anger. He lunged towards Harry, as if to punch him, but Harry stood up quickly and kicked him in the stomach. Malfoy doubled over as he got the air knocked out of him.

"Don't fuck with me Malfoy. This is not your year. Just leave me alone." Harry said leaning close to the boy. 

Malfoy straightened himself out and took Harry by surprise, slamming him into the glass window of the compartment. His head bounced off of it with a crack, the remnants of his past concussion coming back to haunt him. Stars exploded in Harry's eyes. Malfoy punched him in one of his bruised ribs and he nearly passed out from the pain but managed to get his elbow free and elbow Malfoy in the face. It would leave a bruise on his pale mask of arrogance. Harry was happy. Malfoy stumbled back and Harry stopped moving. Something didn't feel right. He touched the back of his head gingerly and came away with blood. He then lifted the front of his shirt to view his rib and say that two of them were a dark purple. He looked up at Malfoy, who was standing in confusion not knowing whether or not to strike, and blood trickled out from the corner of Harry's mouth. He then fell to the floor and lost consciousness.

Malfoy noted that Harry appeared underfed and had bruises covering his body. It didn't bode well for him; he looked at Crabbe and Goyle. 

"Shite."He said to them. "Let's get the hell out of here."

The three fled from the compartment and shut the door. 


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the support

Thanks for the support! I started this story because I was bored at work and I can't believe it's actually being read Sorry for the sluggish updates, as I said, I do this at work and actually get paid for it, haha. Thanks to Lonely, Charlie, and Anime for the reviews. I really appreciate it.

Chapter 4:

When Harry regained consciousness he was in the infirmary of Hogwarts. He must have been out for awhile because the room appeared dark as if it were night. As he looked around the room he saw Hermione reading a book in an armchair and Ron in one parallel to her asleep. When she noticed Harry had awakened she nudged Ron and he groggily opened his eyes.

"Harry, how are you feeling?" She asked cautiously, coming to kneel by his bed.

"Alright." He replied, though this was far from true. He felt like he had been hit by a truck but his friends had enough worries.

"What happened?" He asked, a hand to his head.

"Malfoy gave you a small concussion and somehow managed to break two of your ribs…you had internal bleeding Harry...you almost dies!" The girl leaped to her feet and gently hugged the healing boy.

"Who said anything about Malfoy?" Harry questioned.

"Well who else would it be mate?" Ron spoke, "We all know he's a sodding git."

Harry smiled slightly, "Malfoy may have given me the knock to the head but he's not strong enough to break my ribs." He explained, not wanting to give Malfoy the credit.

"Harry, if Malfoy didn't do it then who did?" Hermione asked

"No one, I told you Hermione, it's from when I fell out of that tree." He avoided her eyes fearing she would see the lie.

"No it wasn't Harry!" Hermione stood straight up, tears falling from her face. "Just admit the truth so we can help you!"

"Help me with what Hermione? What can anyone do about it?!" Harry shouted a bit too forcefully.

"I don't know but...You just…you can't keep doing this to yourself Harry..." She sobbed.

Harry sat dead still comprehending what he had just heard.

"Wait…You think I did this to myself?! That I'm some sort of sick masochist?! Are you out of your bloody mind?!" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. That his friends could view the abuse on his body and think that he was doing it himself…that he was that weak…he just couldn't believe it.

"Well what else are we supposed to believe?" Hermione said gently, "You took Sirius's death really hard Harry…and we know you blame yourself…you hadn't responded to a single letter from either of us all summer." She put a hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

"I never got any sodding letters! You know what, go ahead and believe it. Believe that I did this to myself because I don't feel worthy of living while Sirius is dead. Because I feel like dying everyday but know that I can't because I have to be the 'Savior of the Wizarding World'. But if you truly believe that then you really are quite dense for being the brightest witch of your age." Harry said more than he had wanted to. He let his actual feelings slip out but he wondered if it even changed anything.

"Then Harry…what did happen?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"What do you think Hermione? If I didn't do it to myself who does that leave?" Harry was tired of trying to make her understand.

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment then her eyes became large. "Your Uncle?! Your uncle did this to you?! Oh Harry I-"

Harry cut her off, "I need some rest now."

She held back tears and Ron looked shocked. She nodded her head.

"See you later." Ron said.

"Yeah" Harry poured himself some sleeping drought and fell into dreamless oblivion.

Draco made his way slowly and silently to the infirmary. He needed to make sure the scar head wasn't dead. His father wouldn't be happy if he ever found out and the Dark Lord would kill him. He had plans for Potter. As Draco approached the door he heard voices and hid in the shadows by the door.

"…You think I did this to myself?!" He heard Potter yell. Draco was taken aback. Were The Golden Boy's friends really that stupid? He berated himself for even asking that question, they were Gryffindors, of course they were stupid. The Slytherin's inner monologue had made him miss more of the conversation; the next voice he heard was Potter's again.

"You know what, go ahead and believe it. Believe that I did this to myself because I don't feel worthy of living while Sirius is dead. Because I feel like dying everyday but know that I can't because I have to be the 'Savior of the Wizarding World'. But if you truly believe that then you really are quite dense for being the brightest witch of your age."

Score one Potter. He listened more intently when he heard the mudblood ask the question of what really did happen.

"What do you think Hermione? If I didn't do it to myself who does that leave?" He heard the boy-who-lived reply.

There was silence then a high pitched response, "Your Uncle?! Your uncle did this to you?! Oh Harry I-"

"I need some rest now." The boy replied monotone.

Draco left then. Head spinning. He had always imagined the Golden Boy living in a huge mansion with a family that worshipped the ground he walked on. Not an abusive Uncle. He didn't understand why it bothered him so much. He thought to himself, '_Maybe Potter is just searching for more attention'_. Though something in Draco knew this wasn't true and really wondered why he cared. Besides…he was going to do something far worse then the boys Uncle ever had. Draco Malfoy, hypocrite of the year.


End file.
